I believe nothing should go unappreciated. Eventually, what we take for granted will become what we miss most. Time is our greatest enemy. I discovered this inevitable truth on a frigid December afternoon. It was the moment I learned to truly appreciate my mom.
There was white, everywhere. The floor, walls, and ceiling- all entities that intertwined a common characteristic. It was a visible contrast to my khaki boots, army jacket, and fringed scarf. I stood a stranger to my surroundings, striving to keep myself together. However, I was too preoccupied with an ambushing odor: cleaning products coalesced with medicine to form a rancid stench. I became drunk off its intensity. Suddenly, I forgot the words to the traditional Christmas Carols that projected through the invisible speakers with minuscule volume, but with a pounding intensity.
White, again. My face, knuckles, and knees formed an array of symptoms that worked together to create a syndrome that could destroy. The sickly atmosphere brought me to clench the snowman gift bag with a concentrated strength. The thin, braided handles made an imprint along my numb fingers, bringing my bones to the surface and changing the complexion of my marbled hands. My knees wobbled with every step. The question of whether to continue walking caused my teeth to clench.
White, once more. Everywhere. My mind, body, and heart exposed my emotional state. I held the weight of the world in the pit of my stomach. I fought on, maintaining a steady pace, which eventually brought me to a door: 1228. My fingers fumbled, while my arm found strength to turn the chilled, silver sphere. Suddenly, in the midst of my delusion, I heard a noise. A noise unlike the roaring nothingness that kept echoing inside my head. It was so real I was taken aback. The assertiveness of, “Maria! Your daughter looks just like you,” was articulated so precisely, yet so subconsciously. The nurse didn’t realize it was just too much. These wavelengths broke me. My eyes were first to react. The saline solution drowned my eyelids. My sight blurred immensely as the floor, walls, and ceiling reflected through the blend of water and mascara and became one: white.
It was that frigid December afternoon that I first witnessed my mother battling stage four breast cancer. It was that afternoon that I finally learned to appreciate her, her strength, and her will to survive. I no longer found myself grumbling when she woke me up for school and I no longer complained during her constant reminders to clean my room. I finally understood that my mother’s presence was my greatest privilege. A privilege that held no guarantee.
This is what I consider to be the greatest truth. Although some privileges are not appreciated in accordance with their presence, their value is incalculable. I now strive to remember- not only the milestones but also the “little things.” I strive to notice the endless crimson, orange, and amber that gracefully overpower the streets during the fall months. I make an effort to witness the first flower bloom and the last snowflake fall. I’ve come to adore tradition, for “it is the illusion of permanence.”
Most importantly, I have learned to appreciate those who make an impact. The role models and advocates, but also the unspoken heroes, like my mom. The time I spend with these people- the ones I love and admire- shape who I become. They establish my essence. And I will never again take that for granted.
